Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-02-19
"you just Get Into Her Shoes.

Tom Graham was carelessly marking
with his lead pencil the frame of the
dining-room door. AS his mother re-
peated her call, he looked up.
Don't do that! 1t makes work for
the servant-girl, Margie."
oh, well, mother, she is paid
for it."
But not to do needless work. And
the orange-peel that you left on the
kitchen floor you might have put into
the stove"
"Well, Margie is paid for that also,
mother"
mo, not to do unnecessary work.
Think how you would like it if you
were servant. You just get into her
shoes. You imagine how it would be
if you We're the girl, and big boy
should scatter orange-peel on the floor
and mark up the paint. You just get
into her shoes"
"Plenty of room there to navigate
round" said Tom, with laugh.
"Think it over, Tom. 1t is only the
Golden Rule we need to apply in this
case"
Tom had taken a seat by the kitchen
stove, that he m ght receive mothers
battery" as he called it, more comfort
ably than if standing. 1t was a warm
corner into which he had pushed his
chair, and speedily he grew drowsy.
He was thinking of the Golden Rule of
our Savior, reminding us of our duty
to others. His reflections were very
practical. He thought, too, of his
mothers advice, you just get into her
shoes" He laughed. Looking up, he
saw before the stove pair of Margies
shoes.
Il mean to try it, see if don'tl" de-
clared Tom. "A good joke"
He rose and thrust his feet into Mar
gie's stout shoes.
Plenty of room! 1 told mother
So"
To his surprise and alarm he quickly
began to change. He began to grow.
His slender feet enlarged and COM
pletely filled the shoes. He grew in
every direction, and, to his astonish-
ment, dress that looked like Margie's
fell over him, and when he put his
hand to his head, he felt that his hair
was "done up''-an immense quantity
of it-in Margi s style, the natural
growth well stuffed out with various
false expedients, "rats," and the like.
"Horrors!' groaned Tom, Fam 1
Margle? Where's a looking-glass
He stood before the glass, and there
was Margie!
where am I, then, and what was
Tom Graham?"
At the open window he saw a boy
standing who was the very image of
Tom Graham. Charlie Tilton was near
him. AS if to establish the identity of
this Tom Graham, when his mother
sad "Tom," the boy, leaving the Win
dow, called out, Coming, mother"
Tom felt, though, that he must respond
also, and so he trotted off, or shuffled,
rather, in his big shoes, and presented
himself before his mother
"She will detect the true Tom," he
said.
70 his disgust she said, "Margie!"
And whether he wished to do so or not,
he could not seem to help saying,
"What shall 1 do next, PLACE, mum?
"You may take the slop-pail and
scrubbing brush and wipe out some
marks that Tom made on the paint. I
would make him do it, but he must go
at once to carry telegram to the office
for his father"
What volcano was inside of Mar
gle! There was no appeal from this
decision, and, reluctantly Selling pail
and brush, Margie, or Tom rather and
Margle-the two were getting very
much mixed up-the servant went to
work.
what big feet!" said some one at
the window. 1t was Charlie Titon.
Tom or Margje looked down at the in
nocent but offending objects, and warm
ly blushed. 1t was a prudent thing,
though, to make no reply. The vol
cano" inside the servant grew hotter
and larger, but there was no escape of
lava-lke speech. How hard it was to
start those marks on the paint, for the
pencil had been drawn inside deep
crease.
81 didn't know scrubbing was so
tough" thought Tom. "The Teller who
did this ought to be"
"hargic, Margie!" screamed a voice.
1t was Mrs. Graham calling down the
back chamber stairs.
What mum" said Tom.
Some one is at the door, the front
door. Why don't you go? never saw
such girl"
"Oh, DEAR" groaned Tom, shutting
off toward the front door
"Margie!' squoaled shriller but
smaller voice. Il want a piece of bread
and butter. this moment"
1t was May Graham summonlng r..
lief after a long, hungry walk. Tom
wac in despair.
"There, | am going to rebel and say
l am not Margie," declared Tom, after
he had let the caller into the parlor and
had started to give May Graham a
piece of bread and butter. To his sur
prise he found there was no choice al
lowed him in the matter. He began to
say, al am not Margie," and his tongue
refused to move after the Il au
not" He stood dumb before his
mother.
What did YOU say. Margie?" in
quired Mr.. Graham, who had suddenly
entered the house and saw from the
angry look in the servants face that an
immense volcano" of rebellion must
be gathering heat and force. "You are
not-what? Not going to mind your
mistress? Margie, am astonished. +"
Tom was in despair. 1t was useless
to tell who he was. In sullen silence,
he returned to his scrubbing. The
marks were eventually removed, and
Tom sad, 81 hope now I nav have a